Twenty-five years later, I can still remember exactly where I was.
I was sitting on my couch.
I had the day off from AT&T, and I was watching the news when the first tower was hit.
At first, I could not process what I was seeing.
It looked like a movie.
Even though I knew I was watching the news, there was something in my mind that would not allow me to believe that what I was seeing was actually happening in real life.
Then the second tower was hit.
And that was the moment.
I remember thinking, This is not a movie. This is really happening.
I sat there almost numb.
My mind immediately went to my children.
Where are they?
Are they safe?
Where is my family?
And almost as quickly, another thought came to me:
What kind of world are our children coming into?
That question has stayed with me.
I Was in the Middle of New Beginnings
September 11, 2001 came during such a significant season of my own life.
My oldest grandson had just been born on August 21.
We had spent months preparing for his arrival, waiting for this new little life to enter our family.
And I was also preparing for another beginning.
On October 1, just a few weeks after September 11, I would marry my husband.
So there I was.
A brand-new grandmother.
A woman preparing to become a wife again.
Looking forward to a new season of life.
There was excitement. There was anticipation. There was hope.
And right in the middle of all of that newness, I watched our country experience something that changed us forever.
It is strange how life can hold both things at the same time.
Joy and fear.
New beginnings and tremendous loss.
Hope for the future and uncertainty about what that future will look like.
That is what I remember about that season.
Twenty-Five Years Later
This year, my grandson turned 25.
And in just a few weeks, my husband and I will celebrate 25 years of marriage.
Those milestones cause me to think about just how much life has happened since that morning.
Twenty-five years.
Children have grown up.
Families have changed.
People have married.
Babies have been born.
Careers have begun and ended.
There have been celebrations, losses, accomplishments, disappointments, healing, heartbreak, and ordinary days that became years before we even realized how quickly time was moving.
For me, 25 years represents so much life.
But today, I cannot help but think about the families for whom 25 years represents something very different.
Twenty-five years without a husband.
Without a wife.
Without a mother or father.
Without a son or daughter.
Without a brother, sister, friend, coworker, or loved one.
I cannot fully understand that kind of loss.
I knew of people who lost their lives on September 11, but they were distant from me.
I did not experience what thousands of families experienced that day.
For me, September 11 was something I watched unfold on television.
For them, it became part of their family story forever.
There was a before.
And there was an after.
My heart is with them today.
The Children Who Inherited the World After
I also find myself thinking about the children.
Maybe that is because my mind went there immediately on September 11.
My grandson was only a few weeks old.
He had no idea what was happening.
He had no idea that the world around him had just changed.
And now he is 25 years old.
His generation has never known the world before September 11, 2001.
They were born into what came after.
And when I think about that, I find myself asking the same question I asked while sitting on my couch all those years ago:
What kind of world are we creating for our children?
I know everything is not bad.
There has been so much beauty in these 25 years.
There has been love.
There has been joy.
There has been progress.
There have been moments when people have come together, cared for one another, helped one another, and reminded us of what is still good in humanity.
But everything is not good either.
There is still uncertainty.
There is violence.
There is fear.
There is division.
There are moments when I look at the world and wonder where we are headed.
And on a day like today, it is difficult not to sit with those thoughts.
Because remembering September 11 should not only cause us to look backward.
I believe it should also cause us to look at the world we are building now.
The way we treat one another.
The way we speak to one another.
The things we are teaching the next generation.
The values we are modeling.
The kind of world we are leaving behind.
More Than a Date in History
For those of us who were old enough to remember September 11, there are certain details that will probably always stay with us.
Where we were.
What we were doing.
Who we called.
What we felt.
The images we could not stop watching.
The disbelief.
The fear.
And the realization that life could change in a moment.
But today, I do not want September 11 to simply become another date we acknowledge once a year.
I want to remember the people.
The lives that were lost.
The families who were forever changed.
The first responders who moved toward danger while others were trying desperately to get away from it.
The ordinary people who showed extraordinary courage.
And the countless individuals whose lives were affected in ways the rest of us will never fully know.
Behind every number was a name.
Behind every name was a life.
Behind every life was someone who loved them.
That is what I want to remember.
At This Moment
So today, 25 years later, I find myself sitting with many of the same thoughts I had that morning.
Family.
Children.
Life.
Loss.
Uncertainty.
And gratitude for another day.
I think about the grandson who was just weeks old then and is now a 25-year-old man.
I think about the marriage I was preparing to begin and the 25 years my husband and I have now shared.
I think about all the life that has happened between then and now.
And then I think about the families whose loved ones never got those 25 years.
That is where my heart turns today.
Not simply to where I was.
Not simply to what I was beginning.
But to those who lost so much.
And to the generations who came after.
My hope is that remembering does more than take us back to September 11, 2001.
I hope it reminds us that life is precious.
That tomorrow is never promised.
That the people we love matter more than we sometimes remember in the busyness of everyday life.
And that the world our children inherit is not just something that happens to them.
It is something we are helping to create.
So today, I remember.
I honor.
I reflect.
And I pray that we never become so far removed from that day that we forget the lives behind it.
May we never forget September 11, 2001.
Twenty-five years later, that is where my heart is at this moment.
Twenty five years. It is difficult to even write those words. For those of us who remember September 11, 2001, there are moments from that day that never really faded. We remember where we were, who we were with, the disbelief, the fear, and the terrible realization that we were watching lives change forever.
What I also remember is how people reached for one another afterward. We hugged a little tighter, called people we loved, thanked first responders, prayed for strangers, and understood for a while how precious an ordinary day really was.
Twenty five years later, I hope we never forget the people who went to work that morning and never came home, the families who have carried that loss every day since, and the extraordinary people who ran toward danger when every instinct must have told them to run away.
May we remember not only the horror of that day, but the humanity that rose from it. Today, I am simply grateful for the people I love and for another ordinary day with them. ❤️🇺🇸